


I Won't Break Your Heart (In the Dark)

by righteousauthoritie



Category: Grimes (Musician) RPF, Music RPF
Genre: Body Hair, Crying, F/M, Facials, Hair Kink, Montreal, Music, Musicians, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Pubic Hair, Rape, SEBASTIAN - Freeform, Smut, claire boucher - Freeform, cowan - Freeform, cum, grimes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/righteousauthoritie/pseuds/righteousauthoritie
Summary: Grimes, aka Claire Boucher, is pitching her music to Sebastian Cowan in the hopes of getting signed to his label. And although he starts off with the same intentions, his mind starts focusing on other things very quickly.Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy and fiction, and I didn't financially profit off of it in any way. It contains non-consensual material so please don't read further if you're not into that. I might add more chapters to this later, but for right now, consider it a one-shot.





	I Won't Break Your Heart (In the Dark)

_“I will say that I’ve been in numerous situations where male producers would literally be like, ‘We won’t finish the song unless you come back to my hotel room.’ If I was younger or in a more financially desperate situation, maybe I would have done that. I don’t think there are few female producers because women aren’t interested. It’s difficult for women to get in. It’s a pretty hostile environment.”_

 

When Claire said that in 2016, she wasn't being entirely truthful. It isn't that she had slept with producers, because technically she hadn't. But, back when she lived in Montreal, she was forced to deal with Sebastian Cowan - founder and manager of Arbutus Records - in a situation very similar to what she'd talked about in regards to producers taking advantage of young female musicians.

All the way back in 2009, Claire was a burgeoning artist in Montreal. She'd dropped out of college, was living a bohemian lifestyle (which is a polite way of saying she was practically homeless), and though her parents were fairly affluent, she shuddered at the thought of going to them for support. She wanted to make something of herself, on her own, like any healthy and ambitious person her age. It wasn't like she was starving or going without shelter, anyway. The last few months had been spent shacking up with people she'd gone to college with or knew from parties.

When Claire showed up at Sebastian's office/studio, he was aback a little by how she had dressed. They'd only met a few times before, and she had dressed in a similar way, but the informality of the way she dressed - a thin blue-green tank top, a dark blue skirt that went down to her ankles, and low-top sneakers - really butted heads with the business-related reason she was there in the first place. She was pitching her material to Sebastian to get signed to his record label, and seek distribution from him and his contacts; but she was dressing like she was at a hippie commune. It didn't offend him. In fact, he found it endearing.

She'd hugged him in a friendly sort of way, he immediately became aware of the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. He didn't want to be inappropriate or unprofessional, but that greeting of her breasts pressed against his body was a first impression that lingered over the entire encounter. They talked about Montreal, and what brought them both there. He was from London, she was from Vancouver, but what brought them both to Quebec was the bustling art scene and the unique cultural experiences the province - and especially Montreal - had to offer. They talked about food, music, and in general Sebastian had a good feeling about her as an artist. But, increasingly, his attentions were pulled away from the professional aspects and starting centring on his growing attraction to Claire. When she pulled her hands above her head to adjust the bun holding her hair up, he noticed that she didn't shave her armpits, which was always a turn-on for him. He also liked the heart tattoo on her arm, as well as the weird shapes that were tattooed onto her hands. He found himself looking at her more than he should have been. In fact, his thoughts were quickly veering from inappropriate admiration to perverted fantasy. He felt himself getting hard.

They walked to the mini-studio in the back of his loft, and he showed her inside. To the right was a stack of electronic recording equipment, and to the left were some seats and books. Sebastian put the flash drive containing the demos into his laptop and pulled up the files for a listen. He offered his synths and mixing table for Claire to play with while she waited for his evaluation, and he went to the other side of the room to listen to the album. Putting his headphones on, he dragged and dropped the .wav files into foobar2000, and clicked play.

Sebastian wasn't really paying attention to the music; he was too busy studying Claire and thinking about what he'd like to do to her, his erection growing with each new thought. Claire wasn't the sort of person most people would find attractive, and she was miles away from being "pretty" in the conventional sense of the word. She was a profoundly weird girl who wore mismatched clothing, had an asymmetrical haircut that was buzzed down to the scalp in places, scars on her bottom lip from how much she habitually chewed on it, half-finished tattoos covering her arms and hands, a stubby nose, eyebrows that nearly formed a unibrow at the middle, big ears that were accentuated by the haircut she had, and there were days where she didn't even shower.

  
The thing is, Sebastian loved weird girls, and everything about Claire had his cock throbbing as her music played in his ears. He was wondering things about her. What she looked like naked. If she shaved her pussy, because he already knew she didn't shave her armpits. If she had any tattoos in places hidden from prying eyes. What her lips feel like, either against his own or around his cock. But the thing he wondered most is what Claire looked like with cum on her face. Sebastian was absorbing all her details and rolling the ideas around in his head when Claire turned in the swivel chair and smiled sweetly at him. Locking eyes with her sent a shock through him. She had no idea of the dirty thoughts racing through his mind, and that naive innocence only made him want her more. It was driving him mad.

  
"How's everything sound?", she asked. He hadn't heard her, but he could read her lips clearly. He'd learned how to bullshit his way through conversations like this in dealing with artists while working for Sony, and while he usually didn't feel the need to impress a person with his thoughts, he wanted to make Claire feel like her music really mattered to him. He pulled off his headphones and prepared his spiel.

  
"It's excellent. Spacey without becoming a reverb-laden mess. Experimental without the pretension. Tightly structured, but not boring. I know this is niche and weird, but I think this is going to turn heads." Despite how worked up he was getting, he kept his voice calm, and tried to make objective-sounding observations about the music.  


  
"Really? Wow, thanks! I, like, sort of thought of it as some basic bedroom pop, and I really didn't think everything would come together well. Like, I didn't know how other people would react to it. I'm really glad you like it Sebastian." The enthusiasm and earnestness in her voice and expression were apparent; there was also a cute awkwardness in the way she gave her breathless response, and how she had trouble making eye contact with Sebastian. It's like she thought she was unworthy of his approval, or that he'd told her something nobody else ever had. Nobody had validated her the way he just did. He almost felt bad about lying to her about the music. He told himself he was doing this for her sake - to make her feel good. But, conscious of it or not, he was really doing this for himself.

  
When Claire turned back around to the synth to fiddle with the knobs and press its keys, Sebastian reached down to his groin and started rubbing his cock through his tight jeans. The low lighting of the room kept his erection from being too conspicuous, and he felt pretty sure he wouldn't give himself away. So he sat there, staring at Claire from behind, feeling his confidence growing in the safety of the darkness. He almost felt bold enough to pull his cock out and stroke it with Claire sitting a few feet away, but instead took a deep breath, closed his eyes tightly until the thought receded, then put the headphones back on in an attempt to get his mind back on his work and stop being so fucking unprofessional. _You're better than this_ , he told himself. Not long after the cups of the headphones closed back around his ears, he heard her crooning something that felt like guidance.

**"I won't break your heart in the dark"**

That line was repeated over and over, like a mantra. It seemed prophetic to him. In his hormone-addled mind, this song was a message. It was her giving him permission to act on his urges. Telling him that if he made a move on her, she wouldn't reject him. He convinced himself that she wouldn't repeat that line so many times and then have him listen to it if it weren't a message for him. That innocent smile from earlier was immediately recontextualised into a sexual invitation. The song served as a form of hypnosis, drawing him to her even more than before, and in that moment he loved her music more than any he'd ever heard. He felt in love with her. He couldn't believe he'd dismissed it the way he had. When the song finished, he took the headphones off and stopped the playback. That was the convincing he'd needed, and he had made up his mind about what he would do next.

As Claire pumped sound into the room with the synth, Sebastian stood up from his chair and methodically walked over to her, as if he were in a trance. Her head was cocked to the side, her bare neck was craned, and she was swaying a bit as she let the chords ring. Back and forth she rocked until he reached her and stopped the motion by placing his hands firmly on both of her shoulders. At once, she stopped, and turned her face around to stare up at him and smile that same smile she'd given him before. She was just being friendly, but Sebastian took it as a signal. He spun her 180 degrees in the chair so that they could face each other properly, and before Claire could say a word, his lips were on hers, the echo of the synth still lingering in the air.

Claire immediately began recoiling into the chair in an attempt to pull away from Sebastian, and started pushing him away and slapping at him the moment she realised that she was cornered. "What are you doing? _No_ , Sebastian!" But he persisted, and advanced from simply putting his lips on hers to sticking his tongue in her mouth, so that her protests were muffled and easier for him to ignore. In his mind, he could pass those muffled screams off as moans of pleasure. He was distorting her feelings the same way he distorted the words of her song, and distorted the meaning of her smile. The words of her song - words which were not about him in any way - set this situation into motion, and now he ignored her pleas for him to stop. He was hearing only what he wanted to hear so that he could justify raping Claire. He wanted her, and in his mind she wanted him, and he could not be dissuaded.

She hadn't bit his tongue off, even though she could have. She hadn't scratched at him. She hadn't tried to gouge his eyes out. She never got more aggressive than some mild shoving and slapping. Very soon after his tongue entered her lips, she stopped resisting altogether, and became very stiff. The shock of the situation was so overwhelming that she didn't know how to react, and now she was in something of a catatonic state. If Sebastian had taken the time to look at Claire's eyes, he would have seen her staring out at nothing while he violated her. But he was consumed by his goal too much to care about how she was reacting. He didn't love her. He loved the idea of her. And he was treating her like an object to act out his lust, rather than a person whom he cared for.

Not long after she stopped resisting, he broke the kiss and began undressing her to see what the answers to his questions from earlier would be. He quickly began spreading her legs apart and lifting her skirt to get a good look at her panties and thighs. Lowering himself to his knees, he could see a plethora of dark curls creeping out from the hemline of her plain white panties, and his suspicion that she didn't shave was confirmed. Her lily white thighs were also covered in hair, and it was clear that she didn't shave her legs either. He pushed her legs back together, grabbed the waist of her panties, and tugged them down in one move so that they rested around her low-top sneakers. The sneakers were quickly dispatched, and the panties fell naturally to the floor. Through all of this, Claire did not move.

Spreading her legs back apart, he began admiring how full and natural her bush was. He felt like he could rest his face on that patch of hair and fall asleep, but instead he used his tongue to reach out for her pussy, and almost instinctively he began teasing her clitoral hood with his mouth, raising and lowering it as he grunted his approval. Despite this, Claire still did not budge. Not that Sebastian minded. He wanted to explore her body, and foreplay would have just been a distraction. So explore he did, using his thumbs to spread apart her lips so that he could give his tongue plenty of room to taste her. He thought it was bliss. There weren't a lot of fluids coating her walls, but what there was he lapped up with a deep sense of content in his heart. She tasted as sweet as he hoped she would, and satisfied with himself, he began kissing the inside of her thighs in appreciation of her.

Still not an inch of movement from Claire.

Sebastian had yet to spot any hidden tattoos, so he decided to undress her some more. Before he lifted her shirt, he took the time to admire more deeply what he'd noticed earlier - that she wore no bra. The outline of her nipple was visible through the thin fabric, and judging by how hard they were, Sebastian was under the impression that Claire was deeply aroused by his advances. Smiling to himself, he began to pull her shirt up. He was having more problems than he had with her panties, because her arms were getting in the way of him pulling the shirt over her head, so eventually he got frustrated and ripped the straps of her tank top so that he could situate the shirt around her waist. What Sebastian saw was perfection. Her nipples were soft and pink, her breasts had a nice curve to them despite being so small, and the skin was as pale as her thighs. It looked so milky that he was almost surprised her breasts tasted of flesh when he licked them. There was nary a tattoo in sight, however, which disappointed him more than he expected it to.

Claire said nothing and did nothing. She was his personal fuckdoll for the evening, and he was going to use her to his heart's content. He was now harder than he'd been all night, and decided to put his cock to good use. Sebastian stood up from how he was situated, pulled Claire to the floor, on her knees, and dropped his trousers. When his cock finally sprung free from its confines, it splashed a little precum on Claire's cheek, which Sebastian licked off greedily. He didn't stop there. He licked her nose, her ears, her neck, her lips - all the things that made her special to him. And then he took the plunge, and placed his stiff cock in her mouth.

It didn't take many thrusts against the wet confines of her mouth - the tongue, teeth, and lips all combining to create an overwhelming sensation to his cock - before he was ready to burst. And he already knew he wanted to fulfill his dream of seeing cum on her face. So after about 15 thrusts that were very shaky and very exasperated, he breathlessly grunted, pulled his cock from her mouth, and began pumping it on her face as milky white liquid erupted in strong jets, drenching her face. First it landed on her right cheek. Then it landed on her forehead. Then a glob landed in her hair. Then a stream of it went into her mouth, and coated her lips like a glazing. Then a shot of it landed right in the middle of her neck. After a total of 8 shots, her face was dripping with his semen, and she was a proper mess.

In all of this, Claire didn't flinch once. She was so disconnected that even a man emptying his balls onto her face did nothing. He'd raped and defiled her, and she couldn't even begin to think about how to fight it.

Sebastian pulled her head back so he could see her face properly - so that he could admire his handiwork. Her face was glistening in his seed, and it looked as amazing as he hoped it would. He got on his knees to face her and started kissing her lips, his cum still dripping down her entire face, whispering thanks for what she did for him. He told her that he was going to go get something to clean her up with, left for a towel, and when he came back, she was in the exact same pose she'd been in before. He didn't notice this lack of movement, and despite coming down from an ecstasy-fueled high, he still wasn't in touch with the reality of Claire's feelings. As he cleaned her up, he asked her how she was doing, expecting a nice reply from her. Instead he got silence. He looked into her eyes and saw that she was crying.

That's the first time Sebastian noticed that anything was wrong.


End file.
